


Recollection

by Cinnamongirl



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2218044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamongirl/pseuds/Cinnamongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zevran loses his memories and doesn't know who he, or anyone else, is.</p><p>Written for a kink meme prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recollection

He wakes. He's inside a tent. He knows the word, even though he doesn't remember learning it and he's never seen one before. He has never seen anything before.

His hands feel heavier than he thinks they should, but he manages to lift them in front of his face. They're tan and calloused. His hands are small but his fingers are long. 

He lowers his hands down to feel his face. He traces the shape of his nose and ears and thinks _elf_ even though he has not heard that word before. He trails his hands down his body, feeling his chest and abdomen and groin and thighs. He's wearing a shirt and trousers, and there is a thin blanket on top of him. 

There's a noise on the other side of the tent. His heart rate increases.

“Zev? Are you awake?” 

He doesn't recognize the voice. He sits up quickly and then rests his head in his hands because he feels dizzy. When he's more confident that he can lift his head without passing out, he looks up to see another figure sitting in front of him and looking concerned. The figure's skin is darker than his own, and he has hair on his face and round ears. _Human_ , his mind supplies. There's a tight feeling in his chest that he doesn't understand.

The man speaks. “Everyone's been worried about you. How are you doing?”

“Everyone?” he asks, not sure who the man is referring to. He notices that he speaks with a different accent. He doesn't remember learning how to speak even though his mouth seems to know what to do.

“Wynne and Alistair and Leliana, mostly. I'm pretty sure that Morrigan's concerned about you, too, but she'd never admit it.”

“Who?” He thinks these are names, but he doesn't recognize any of them.

The man's eyes widen. “What's going on, Zev? Is this a joke?” He stares. “You're serious, aren't you?”

“Zev? Is that my name?” That's what the man has been calling him even though it doesn't seem familiar. “Who am I? Who are _you_?”

“Maker...” the man breathes. “I need to go get Wynne so she can examine you, all right? Not that you know who that is, of course. Fuck.” He pauses and looks around inside the tent, almost like he's hoping to find an answer in one of the corners. “You need to stay here, okay? Can you do that? You'll be safe in here, just sit there and don't move and I'll be right back.”

“I can handle that,” he says drily. 

The man still doesn't look convinced, but he leaves the tent anyway. 

He dutifully sits there and waits, staring at the wall of the tent while trying to move as little as possible. He tries to figure out where he is and why the man seemed to know him, but he can't remember anything about himself or anyone else.

It doesn't take long for the man to return, and he brings another person with him. The tent is small, so the man waits outside while the other person enters. His mind can tell that the person is another human, but this one is female and older. She sits down in front of him.

“Zevran?” she asks while she's looking at him.

“Is that who I am? My apologies, I'm afraid I don't remember anything at all.”

She smiles, but he thinks her eyes look worried. “My name is Wynne.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you. To meet you again, I assume.” He smiles back at her.

“May I examine you?”

He nods. He doesn't understand what's happening, but he'll go with it because he doesn't know what else to do.

Wynne places her hands on either side of his head. He can see them glowing at the edges of his vision. _Magic_ , he thinks. There's an odd sensation, like his mind is tingly and raw, but it doesn't hurt. 

She removes her hands and pokes her head outside the tent. He can hear her talking to the man, who is still standing there. “There's no permanent damage. It's merely a residual effect of the attack. His memories should return, but there's no way to know how long it will take for the effect to wear off.”

“What does that mean?” the man asks. “Are we talking days? Years?”

“I don't know. I'm sorry.” She pulls her head back in the tent and turns to him. “Are you in any pain?”

He shakes his head. “I felt weak and dizzy at first, but it's better now.”

“That is good to hear. You really don't remember anything?”

“No,” he tells her.

“Nothing about my bosom?” she asks with a smile.

He glances down at the bosom in question and feels embarrassed. Her breasts appear to be proportionate to the rest of her body and well-supported by her undergarments, but there's nothing remarkable about them. He isn't sure what she expects him to say.

“That's... rather personal, isn't it?” 

“Maker's breath...” She shakes her head. “I wish there was more I could do, but I promise your memory will eventually return. In the meantime, I believe the Warden can fill you in on everything that's happened recently.” 

Wynne leaves the tent so that the man can reenter. The man won't stop staring at him. 

He has a feeling that this man is important, for some reason. 

“So, hello,” he begins. “My name is Aedan Cousland. I'm a Grey Warden. Do you know what that means?”

“No.” 

He sighs. “Of course you don't. I'll explain later; there's a lot to tell you. Your name is Zevran Arainai.”

“Zevran.” He tries it out in his mouth. It feels unfamiliar. “All right.”

“We're part of a small group that's traveling around and building an army to stop the Blight. I know you probably don't know what that is, either-”

He shakes his head.

“Right, so we've been heading East, trying to find a Dalish settlement. They're elves like you, except- never mind, I'll have to explain that later, too. The important thing is that we were attacked by a group of bandits yesterday. That actually happens a lot and it's usually just frustrating because they never have anything worth looting. Anyway, you went around behind the line of enemies so that you could backstab their leader, except that we didn't know they had mages hidden in the trees. One of them hit you with a spell and you started acting all strange and disoriented, but then Leliana managed to shoot the mage through the eye and kill him and you just collapsed. It was terrifying.” Aedan looks down briefly and shudders. “Wynne managed to heal your injuries after the fight, but you wouldn't wake up.”

He is relieved to hear a familiar name and remember the woman who just spoke with him. It's comforting to know that he can at least create new memories.

Aedan continues, “She thought the mage was trying to use blood magic to control your mind and get you to fight for them or something, but he died while he was in the middle of the spell so it did something weird to your brain. You've been unconscious since yesterday. Are you sure you're all right?”

“Yes, I think so.” 

“And you don't have ANY memories?”

He searches his mind, but there's nothing. As far as he knows, he just started existing earlier when he woke up.

Aedan frowns. “Well, I guess I should re-introduce you to everybody. And you're probably hungry, aren't you? I think Alistair's cooking.” Aedan reaches out a hand to help him stand up. He's weak and shaky at first, but Aedan holds on to his body to support him. Aedan feels strong. 

There are several tents with a fire in the middle of them, and people seated around the fire. They sit down with everyone else. There's another human man who appears to be arguing with the meat that he's trying to cook. This one has pale skin and no beard. “That's Alistair,” Aedan says.

“Er, hello.” Alistair looks at him curiously. “Wynne told me what happened, I'm sorry about the amnesia. But I guess you wouldn't know any different, would you? Do you still like rabbit?” Alistair gestures to the meat.

He shrugs. He's never eaten anything as far as he knows, but the food doesn't smell unpleasant.

There are two more human women, one with red hair and one with black hair. The red-haired woman is friendly and sympathetic, but the black-haired woman just scowls. She is doing something with plants and a mortar and pestle that his mind recognizes as potion-making.

He is also introduced to a Qunari, a dwarf, and a golem, but none of them say very much. Wynne is there as well. Aedan seems to be the leader of the group. There are several different accents, but his seems to be different from the rest. They all eat together when the food is ready. Aedan and Leliana tell him about the darkspawn and the Blight while he listens attentively. Morrigan comments that she prefers him this way, because he's quiet and polite. Aedan scowls at her.

After the meal, Aedan takes out a sword and a whetstone and begins to sharpen it while he talks about what happened while they were at the Circle of Magi. 

“You have an impressive greatsword,” he says, trying to be friendly.

Aedan smirks. Oghren, who had been drinking quietly, laughs out loud. Alistair is rolling his eyes.

Sensing that he did something wrong, he tries to explain. “I meant that it's made of silverite, and it's enchanted-”

“Oh, you were actually talking about his sword?” Alistair asks. 

“Yes.” He's feeling very confused now. “It appears to be very well-made and expensive. I was trying to give a compliment. What else would I be talking about?”

“Well... I thought it was a double entendre and you were complimenting his- you know...”

He looks around, trying to understand. Everybody looks uncomfortable except for Oghren, who is still laughing. _Double entendre_? he thinks, trying to understand.

“Did you think I was talking about his penis?”

The atmosphere gets even more uncomfortable. Morrigan starts laughing quietly.

“Why would I talk about his penis? Isn't that inappropriate? I don't understand.” He turns to Aedan. “Have I even SEEN your penis?”

Aedan stands up, taking his sword and whetstone with him. “I'm going to finish this in my tent,” he mutters before walking off.

He looks around at the people laughing and avoiding eye contact, and he feels guilty. He thinks he's made Aedan angry, but he doesn't know why. He decides to follow him.

“May I come in?” he asks when he's outside the tent.

“Yeah, of course.”

He enters to see Aedan sitting on the floor, with his face in his hands. Aedan looks sad. “Sorry, I shouldn't have abandoned you like that. It just really bothered me when they were all laughing at us.”

The way Aedan says 'us' seems meaningful. A thought occurs to him. “Were we sleeping together?”

Aedan nods.

He tries not to look shocked. He didn't realize that he likes men. On the other hand, he doesn't remember being attracted to anyone at all. 

Aedan looks even sadder.

“I mean no offense,” he says quickly. “I'm sure you're a very memorable sex partner.”

Aedan smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “Look, I didn't want to bring it up because I know you don't even know who I am right now. I didn't want you to feel pressured or anything, I know it wouldn't be right...”

That's probably for the best, he thinks. _Eating_ was a new and overwhelming sensory experience. He doesn't think he's ready for sex. He tries to change the subject. “Why do I know so much about swords, anyway? Am I a smith?”

“Not exactly. You're actually an assassin.”

He's horrified and a little nauseated. “So, that's why you hired me? You wanted an assassin along to help stop the Blight?”

“Well... not quite,” Aedan says, very awkwardly. “You were hired to kill Alistair and me and you put up a good fight, but we defeated you and ended up recruiting you instead.”

He has no idea how to respond to that. There's an overwhelming feeling of shame. “I'm very sorry that I tried to kill you.”

“It's all right.” Aedan smiles kindly. “I don't think it was personal and, if it makes you feel any better, it sounds like you never wanted to be an assassin in the first place.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well... Okay, this is hard to explain. Your life has apparently been very complicated. You're originally from Antiva. Your mother was a prostitute, and you have no idea who your father was.”

He hadn't really thought about what kind of person he was, but he hadn't expected anything like this. 

“So, your mother died giving birth to you, and you were raised in the brothel where she worked.”

“Are you serious?” Aedan doesn't look like he's lying, but this story sounds very ridiculous and melodramatic.

“I don't know for sure, but you seemed serious when you told me. So anyway, the Antivan Crows—they're apprently a big deal—bought you from the brothel and trained you to be an assassin as you were growing up. I get the feeling that you were good at it but you never really liked it, so you've been happy to work with us instead.”

“They 'bought' me? I was a slave?” This is extremely uncomfortable, and he doesn't know how to process it.

“Huh. Maybe? You never described yourself that way, but it sounds like it, doesn't it? I'm sorry you have to learn about everything like this, and I want you to know that whatever you were before, you're a valuable and respected member of our group now.”

“Thank you,” he says. “Please excuse me.” He leaves the tent. He needs some time to think.

 

When he wakes up the next morning, he changes into clean clothes that he finds in his tent. His hair is in his face, so he finds some cord and pulls it back in a ponytail. He walks toward the fire in the middle of the camp, where everyone else is.

Aedan scrunches up his face when he sees him. “Your hair's different," he says.

“Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, it- You used to do this thing with braids? There were two on top of your ears that met in the middle and then they turned into one braid the rest of the way down.”

“What?” He tries to picture what this looks like, or how to accomplish it.

“Never mind, your hair looks fine. It was just surprising, I guess. So, it sounds like you're healed—physically, at least—and we probably need to pack up and keep moving. Do you know if you can still fight? We don't know how your brain was affected exactly, but I was thinking that since you remember how to talk, maybe you remember how to use a sword?”

“I think fighting and talking are controlled by different parts of the brain,” Wynne interjects.

“So anyway,” Aedan continues, “I was thinking you and I could try some sparring? Just to see what you remember.” Aedan must be able to see how scared he is, because he adds “I promise I won't hurt you.”

Aedan hands him a longsword and a dagger, and explains that these are the weapons he was using most recently. He holds the sword with his right hand and the dagger with his left hand, adjusting the grip until it feels comfortable. Aedan takes his newly-sharpened greatsword and motions for him to follow Aedan to an area where there aren't any trees.

“How... what do I do?”

“Just try to avoid my sword and stick me with the pointy ends. But don't actually stab me, please.”

He tries not to panic as Aedan lifts his huge sword and rushes toward him. Aedan seems even bigger like this. He frantically tries to figure out what to do, and notices that Aedan is actually moving fairly slowly. He jumps out of the way at the last minute. He realizes that even though Aedan's body is larger, his is faster and more agile. Aedan is still trying to recover and turn around, so he thrusts the hand with the sword forward until the end of the blade is barely touching Aedan's side.

“That was great!” Aedan is grinning. “That wouldn't have done much if I had armor on, but if I was just in a shirt like this you were at the right angle to go between my ribs.”

He thinks it was probably just luck, but he feels proud anyway.

“Come on!” Aedan says, backing away to put some distance between them. “You try coming at me now!” He looks excited.

He thinks Aedan is pleased with him, and there's a warm feeling in his chest. He runs forward with the sword and dagger drawn. When he reaches Aedan, he swings the longsword. Aedan moves his own sword to block it and he pushes forward. Aedan and his sword are both larger and stronger, so he steps to the side to avoid getting hit. During the moment when Aedan is briefly thrown off-balance, he brings the dagger up to Aedan's neck.

“Nice! I can tell you're rusty, but you definitely haven't forgotten how to fight.”

“Thank you?” He isn't sure if that was a compliment or not, but Aedan still looks happy.

“Leliana knows two-weapon fighting; she can probably train you until your memories come back.”

They pack up camp shortly after that and start walking. He learns that this group spends most of their time walking. He is mostly silent while they walk, letting everyone else talk while he looks around and listens, trying to create as many new memories as possible. At night, they stop walking to eat and set up camp. They take turns taking watch at night while the rest of the group sleeps.

On the second day of walking, monsters attack. He isn't surprised because Aedan and Alistair warn everyone that darkspawn are coming, but he's completely unprepared for how horrible they are. Most of the darkspawn are focused on the warriors in the group, but one of them comes after him. He tries to stab it as many times as possible in the most vulnerable-looking places. The darkspawn manages to hit him in the left arm. It isn't broken, but it seems to be bleeding a lot. Terrified and angry, he thrusts forward with his sword arm and stabs the darkspawn. It finally stops fighting and collapses on the ground. 

He sinks down to his knees. His heart is beating too loud and too fast. He can't stop thinking _I killed something_ and _I almost died_. It's embarrassing; wasn't he supposed to be an assassin? Death shouldn't bother him this much. He looks around to see that the fight is mostly over. At least he helped a little bit. He notices that Aedan, Alistair, and Morrigan are all working together to take down something massive with horns on its head and he feels useless. 

“Ze- Are you all right?” Aedan has noticed him and is managing to run toward him even though he's wearing heavy armor. “Sorry I left you; I was trying to keep the ogre from getting to y- What happened to your arm?” Aedan doesn't seen injured at all, but it's difficult to tell under the armor.

“The darkspawn... It looks worse than it is.” 

“Okay, yeah.” He inspects the wound. “I've got an injury kit; that shouldn't be too hard to heal." Aedan smiles at him encouragingly.

 

After everyone has healed, they start walking again, as if nothing had happened. At first, he can't stop thinking about getting attacked and killing a darkspawn. The face of the darkspawn won't leave his mind, no matter what he tries to look at. He doesn't notice that he isn't thinking about it anymore until they finally stop for the night and he realizes that he's been preoccupied with thoughts of how hungry he is and what they're going to eat for dinner. Is this what it's like to become hardened and callous? Was he like this before?

 

They continue on like this for a while. They walk a lot, and Leliana helps him train when they stop walking. She teaches him specialized assassin skills that she says he taught her, once. Aedan also trains with Alistair and Sten, and sometimes Oghren. It's interesting to watch them fight. He tries to learn more about fighting, but he also just really enjoys seeing Aedan. Aedan is very powerful-looking. He's also confusing. 

Everyone else has been saying how much they like him now, because he's quiet and polite and completely different from how he used to be. Apparently, he had a habit of making inappropriate sexual comments, and he never shut up about being an assassin and somewhere called Antiva. He's embarrassed because he can't imagine doing any of this.

Aedan is different. He's irritable whenever someone talks about how “Zevran is so much less annoying now”, but he looks sad the rest of the time. Aedan is protective of him, but he doesn't seem to like him very much. It seems important for Aedan to approve of him. That's probably because he's the leader of the group. He wonders if maybe Aedan is upset because they aren't sleeping together anymore? He hasn't thought about that much over the past few days because there have been so many other things to learn. 

He watches Aedan sparring with Sten and tries to imagine what it would be like to have sex with him. He has only a vague idea of how sex works, and no actual experience that he can remember. It seems to involve being nude and touching each other. Aedan is a very attractive man; he would probably look even better without clothes. He thinks about himself and Aedan undressing and putting their hands on each other and he's suddenly very aroused. It's so embarrassing that he has to look away. He's pretty sure that he's blushing. Whoever he used to be, he definitely had good taste in men.

 

It's his turn to take watch to take watch with Aedan that night. It's awkward. Aedan seems uncomfortable or angry every time he talks, so he tries to encourage Aedan to talk instead. Aedan tells him about his childhood, and his life before he joined the Grey Wardens. It's nice. He tries to remember every word.

When there's a lull in the conversation, Aedan asks “Do you know what you look like?”

“Not exactly.” He's tried to look at his reflection during the times when he was bathing in a stream, but the water was usually either too cloudy or moving too quickly.

“Here.” Aedan pulls a mirror out of his pack. “I was going to give this to Morrigan, but I thought you might want to look at yourself before I do.”

He takes it from Aedan and looks down into it. Shocked at what he sees, he moves a hand up in front of his face to check that the mirror actually works. He knows that elves have a slightly different facial structure than humans, but he'd honestly been thinking of himself as a shorter and slimmer version of Aedan or Alistair. The shape of his forehead and his nose look... off. His ears are just bizarre. He isn't sure why his hair is lighter than his skin, or what the wavy lines are on the side of his face. He touches them, trying to figure out whether or not they feel different from the rest of his skin.

“Ridiculously handsome, hm?” Aedan asks. He doesn't sound sarcastic.

“Uh, if you say so.” He feels small and weird and ugly, especially compared to Aedan. He isn't sure why Aedan would find him attractive, but apparently he does. Or at least he used to. Maybe this is a good time to bring up what he was thinking about earlier?

“I was wondering...” He hands over the mirror while trying to figure out how to end that sentence.

“Yes?”

“I would like to sleep with you, if you want. I'd probably be bad at it, but I suppose you could teach me?” 

“What?! No, of course not!”

He wonders if rejection always hurts this much. “I'm sorry,” he says.

Aedan looks confused and kind of anxious. “No, don't apologize. It's just that this is all you've ever known and it wouldn't be right, and you don't have to... What brought this on, anyway?”

It's hard to make eye contact. “You've been unhappy with me. I was wondering if it was because we aren't sleeping together anymore.”

“No...” Aedan sighs, and rubs his face with his hands. “I really shouldn't be saying this, but I think I need to explain something.” He pauses and sighs again. “I'm in love with you. Desperately, pathetically in love, but I've never told you until now.”

That... was very much not what he expected to hear. “Why haven't you told me?”

“You don't feel the same way about me. I'm not sure you can, with all you've been through. It's just... I miss you. I know you're right _there_ , but it's like you're a completely different person, and I feel terrible because I can tell that you're so much happier now. I've never seen you this relaxed before. You've been through so many horrible things and you're obviously better off not remembering them, but your experiences made you into the person you are—or were—and that's who I love.”

He is strangely jealous of himself. “I'm sorry,” he says. “I had no idea. I feel like I took your lover away from you.”

“No! Please, don't be sorry for anything. I'm the asshole here. You haven't done anything wrong. You just woke up in the middle of the Blight and I know this all has to be overwhelming, but you're going along with it and helping us even though you don't remember agreeing to anything.”

“Well, what you are doing seems important and I don't exactly have anything to compare it to.”

“See?” Aedan smiles but his eyes look sad. “You're so... There's nothing at all wrong with you.”

“Can I ask why you love me, if you don't mind? Everybody else seems to think I'm annoying.”

“Sure, I'll try to answer that,” Aedan says. “First of all, you shouldn't listen to everybody else because they're jerks who don't know what they're talking about. And second, you aren't annoying. You're actually really funny, with all these good stories and jokes. Obviously, I like it when you fuck me,” Aedan stops talking briefly and grins, “But you're so nice to me, too. I can't tell you how many times you've stayed up all night so that I could sleep, even when it was supposed to be my turn for watch. You always check for traps to make sure I don't step in them, and then after a battle you'll massage all the knots out of my muscles even though I know you have to be just as sore and exhausted as I am. I guess... I can relax and be myself around you. There's no pressure to be the leader, because I know you'll accept me no matter what.”

He's quiet for a few seconds. “It almost sounds like I'm in love with you too, but I don't know how to express it.”

“Thank you.” Aedan doesn't sound convinced.

They sit in silence for a while until Aedan turns to him. “Hey, is it okay if I kiss you?”

“Of course.” He has no idea where Aedan is going with this but the idea is certainly appealing.

Aedan leans down and cups his face gently with his hand. He presses their lips together briefly, almost chastely. 

It feels very, very nice. He moans a little bit.

“There, the first kiss that you remember,” Aedan says.

It takes him a few seconds to figure out how to speak again. “Thank you.”

 

They reach the Brecilian Forest the next day. He's excited because he's been looking forward to seeing other elves, but he is quickly disappointed. The people in the forest look like him and they even have tattoos on their faces, but they don't see him as one of them. 

He's quiet after that, and he lets Aedan do all the talking. Aedan is so friendly and charismatic that he can apparently convince people to do almost anything. It's not as uncomfortable with Aedan as he feared it would be. Aedan seems less angry and more sad now, but at least they both know why. He still gets along well with everyone else in the group.

They start walking again after Aedan is finished talking with everyone, this time they go deeper into the forest. It's difficult at first for him to kill werewolves. They're fast and vicious, but so human-like that he feels guilty for a while until his mind starts to rationalize it with statements like _They attacked us first_ and _I have to protect the others_. 

It goes on for days. They walk around in the woods and kill animals and werewolves and trees. He is told that this is pretty much what happened at the Circle and in Orzammar, except that the murderous trees are new. 

One night while they're in camp, Aedan gives him a pair of gloves. They don't seem to be as sturdy as the gloves he already has, but he thanks Aedan politely because it was a nice thought and he doesn't want to be rude. For some reason, Aedan seems upset anyway.

“I appreciate the gift; it was very thoughtful of you,” he says. “Is something wrong?”

“Those are Dalish leather gloves. I found them farther back in the forest.”

“Yes?” 

“You told me once that your mother had gloves like these.”

“Oh?” He is confused. Didn't Aedan say that his mother was a prostitute, and that he didn't even know her?

Aedan looks even more upset. “I guess I was just hoping... Never mind, it doesn't matter. We should probably start moving again, soon.” He feels guilty because he knows he did something wrong, but he doesn't know how to correct the situation.

 

They find ancient ruins, where more things try to kill them and Aedan charms everyone and convinces them to do something important. He is having trouble following what exactly is going on (something about a curse?) because he's busy trying not to get killed, but it seems that Aedan has accomplished what they came for. 

It's nighttime when they finally step outside, and everyone is exhausted. Aedan decides to make camp as soon as the ruins are out of sight. 

He falls asleep easily, but he wakes up when he hears someone coming inside his tent. Panicking, he tries to feel around in the dark for his weapons.

“Hey, it's just me.” He relaxes when he recognizes Aedan's voice.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up,” Aedan says.

“Is something wrong?” he asks sleepily.

“No...” Aedan trails off. “I was just wondering if I could stay with you tonight? I completely understand if it makes you uncomfortable...”

“No, it's fine. You're always welcome.”

He hears rustling as Aedan sits down. “Thank you. I couldn't sleep.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“The nightmares keep waking me up.” He thinks he can hear Aedan moving to lie down. “It's worse than usual tonight.”

“I'm sorry,” he says again.

“I just thought... When I used to sleep with you- Not like that, sleep next to you, it was always easier and I slept a lot better. I probably won't even fall asleep tonight, though.” Aedan yawns loudly. “It's so weird, you know. Everything's different. It's not just your memories; even your body language and facial expressions changed. You're a completely different person.”

He's worried for Aedan, and ashamed because he doesn't know what to do and he isn't the one that Aedan wants. He's about to tell Aedan that he can stay as long as he likes, when he hears snoring. He smiles into the darkness and listens to Aedan's breathing for several minutes before he also drifts off to sleep.

 

He feels crowded. He struggles to move, blinking, trying to figure out what's going on. When his eyes finally focus, he realizes that he and Aedan are lying down and embracing each other. He gradually remembers Aedan coming to his tent last night. It's comfortable, even though it's kind of sweaty and Aedan is squishing him.

“What-” Aedan mumbles. Aedan's eyes open fully and he pushes himself backward. “Oh shit, sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. Or, uh, cuddle you. Do you know what time it is?”

“Morning?” he guesses. Judging by the light they can see through the fabric of the tent, the sun is up. They usually would have packed up camp and left by now.

“Damn,” Aedan looks embarrassed, but he laughs. “I guess I really needed the sleep.” 

As usual, they spend the day walking and fighting things in the forest. He wonders if this lifestyle they have is normal. It feels normal, but that may just be because it's all he knows. The plan is to go back to the Dalish camp to talk with the elves, and then to head north toward somewhere called Denerim.

When they stop for the night, Aedan sleeps in his tent again. They don't even discuss it verbally, Aedan just raises his eyebrows and he nods in return. They lie down and arrange themselves so that their bodies are close together, but not touching. 

Aedan reaches over to take his hand, and raises his eyebrows again. He nods. They fall asleep holding hands.

* * *

Zevran wakes. He tries to figure out where he is as quickly and quietly as possible. He's inside a tent, which doesn't give any indications about his location, or even what country he's in. 

He freezes when he sees a sleeping human who he doesn't recognize. He feels for the dagger at his hip, but it's not there, nor is the dagger that's supposed to be strapped to his ankle, or the knife underneath the pillow. Zevran eyes the human cautiously. He's very large and muscular. Zevran could never hope to defeat him, or even survive, in hand-to-hand combat. Maybe he should break the man's neck before he wakes, just in case? He wonders if there are other people outside the tent. Whatever he decides to do, he has to be quiet so that they don't hear him and come to investigate. Zevran studies the man's neck again. It's thick, but he's confident that he could snap it with the correct angle and force.

The man stirs and blinks a few times, and Zevran _remembers_.

“Warden...” he breathes.

All of the memories come back in a rush. He remembers Aedan Cousland, the Grey Warden who spared his life and gave him the opportunity to be part of something good and important, who invited him to his bed and gave him gifts and listened to all of his stories without ever judging. Zevran remembers how kind and patient the Warden has been with him recently, and the way he looked at Zevran when he said “ _I love you..._ ” 

Zevran is completely still except for the tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

The Warden sits up and watches him carefully. “Zev?” he asks. “Is that you?”

Zevran is feeling so many things that he's choking on them, but he forces himself to speak. “I am yours,” he says.


End file.
